


i'm beginning to feel the years (but i'm going to be okay)

by fire_and_soup



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Bisexuality, Character Study, Coming Out, F/F, Gen, give teddy altman someone to talk to 2k21, ish?, this fic contains two (2) entire tacky pride mugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 00:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_and_soup/pseuds/fire_and_soup
Summary: And now I’m here, and – and I’m just not sure. If I ever got all the pieces back.Teddy opens up about her past. Amelia is there to listen.
Relationships: Teddy Altman & Amelia Shepherd, Teddy Altman/Allison Browne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 15





	i'm beginning to feel the years (but i'm going to be okay)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you! :)  
> Some quick notes: This is slightly AU in that 17x07 and 17x08 haven't happened (did I try and fail to finish this before the midseason premiere? maybe so). It's also set a few weeks in the future - Meredith's mostly recovered and back at home, where she takes care of the kids together with Link, and Amelia is back at work. Title's from the Brandi Carlile song.  
> Cool? Cool! Let's go!

It’s a cold morning in Seattle, colder than it has any right to be in June, and Teddy Altman has done an entire heart transplant by the time she gets around to a cup of coffee in the attending’s lounge. She knows the residents are probably waiting for her to do rounds, but she’s been up since three in the morning, and she’s not twenty anymore, so she’s tired. She closes her eyes – _just for a minute, Altman_ – but then the closed eyes feel so, so good and this couch is really comfy and making the residents wait another half hour won’t kill them and –

The door opens and Teddy jolts awake. It’s Amelia Shepherd, looking entirely too happy and well-rested for Teddy’s current mood. “Morning, Altman!” she says as she walks over to the wardrobe. “Rough night?” Teddy groans. “More like rough very early morning. My cardiomyopathy kid, Jerry – they found a heart for him at three AM, and I am grateful and all, but – ugh.” Amelia makes a sympathetic noise as she drops her bag on the desk.

“Anyway,” Teddy says, yawning and stretching her arms, “I could probably do with a refill before rounds.” She grabs her mug off the table and shuffles over to the coffee maker. “You want anything?”

“Could you put the kettle on?”, Amelia asks as she pulls the scrub top over her head. “Link got me this weird herbal tea when I was pregnant with Scout and now I’m a tea person, apparently.”

_This is nice_ , Teddy thinks as she flicks the switch on the kettle. There are few people who make casual small talk with her these days, ever since the incident with Tom. She’d been surprised when Amelia, of all people, hadn’t stopped speaking to her.

When she’s poured herself another cup of coffee, she asks Amelia what kind of tea she wants. “That really gross strawberry cheesecake stuff. I have no taste, I know,” she says, grinning. Just as Teddy is about to pull another mug from the shelf, Amelia says, “Wait!” She hobbles over to the desk, wearing a shoe on only one foot, and pulls something wrapped in a scarf out of her bag. “New mug,” she says, unwrapping it and handing it over to Teddy.

The mug is printed with a pink, purple and blue teabag, and underneath, it says _BISEXUALITEA._ Teddy has to laugh about the stupid pun _._ “That’s… a good mug”, she says.

“Right? The tackiest ones are always the best.” Amelia grins and bends down to tie her shoelaces.

This is where Teddy could drop the subject. In fact, about seven different blaring alarms in her head are telling her to do just that. But there’s also a gut feeling, one that’s been showing up more and more ever since she ran into Claire at that conference. And Teddy is genuinely curious, she is. So she ignores the alarms and the nausea and with a smile, she says, “Didn’t know you were bisexual.”

Amelia looks up. “Oh, right, I never properly came out to you, did I? Well, my name is Amelia Frances Shepherd, I’m an excellent neurosurgeon and a recovering addict and I’m bisexual, nice to meet you”, she says, jokingly. Teddy tries to laugh, but she also feels like she’s about to throw up from how nervous this conversation is making her, so it comes out a bit off, and of course, because that’s just Teddy’s luck these days, Amelia picks up on it.

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”, she asks, a little bit concerned. And Teddy really can’t have her thinking that, so she says “No, no, of course not, it’s just that-” _It’s just that I’m bisexual too, and I haven’t said that out loud maybe ever, and this conversation is scaring me to death._ _It’s just that the only woman I’ve ever loved was my best friend whom I was having an affair with and she died on 9/11 and I don’t know how to talk about that._

She’s already made up five different excuses when that gut feeling tugs at her again. _You could just say it, you know. It’s three words, and it’s not like Amelia is going to judge._ _It’s not like anything bad is going to happen if you do._

And the thing is, Teddy knows that the gut feeling is right. She’s been trying to work through everything that happened with Allison, trying to understand how it’s messed her up this badly, and as best she can figure there are whole parts of herself that she’s tried to cut out because they reminded her too much of Ali. _And of course_ , she thinks, _of course this is one of them_. And she can feel the dread rising as she realizes that that means she’s going to have to say it. Because she’s promised herself to try and be better, to glue the parts back together so she can be a functional human being again, so that maybe, _maybe_ she can fix her family. And so, heart beating out of her chest, she says what she imagines a well-adjusted Teddy who isn’t a mess of chopped-up parts would say:

“I’m, uh. I’m bisexual too.”

Amelia is clearly surprised, but she smiles. It’s a warm, welcoming smile, obviously meant for someone who’s only just figuring out they’re queer. “And the straights lose another one,” she says. “This a recent revelation?”

Teddy has to laugh at that. It’s shaky. “No, no, it’s really not. I just-”

And that is the moment her pager chooses to go off. She takes a look. It’s 911 to the ICU, meaning – “Crap, there’s something wrong with Jerry, I have to go”, she says, barely looking at Amelia before she pulls on her mask, pulls herself together, and takes off running out the door.

•••

When Teddy gets out of surgery, she has one new text from Amelia Shepherd.

_Hey, we never got to finish our conversation this morning – would you be up for tea on the helipad after shift?_

At first, Teddy wants to say no. Or better yet, to not reply at all so Amelia won’t ask again. But then there’s the fact that she – surprisingly – doesn’t regret what she told Amelia this morning. It’s a little bit scary, that there’s someone out there who knows this about her, but mostly it’s just new. Like freshly grown skin, raw and red and still sensitive, but not bad. Not bad at all. And so maybe it’s worth it to open up a little more, to talk. Teddy takes a deep breath and types: _Yeah, sure._

•••

The helipad has become a meeting spot of sorts during the pandemic. There’s fresh air, a chance to take the masks off, the view is excellent – and there’s only one or two choppers a day, so chances of getting interrupted are low.

The weather’s cleared up, and Amelia is already waiting with a thermos and two mugs, watching the ferryboats come and go across the Sound. She startles a bit when she notices Teddy. “Hey,” she says. “I’m glad you came.”

She pours the tea, taking the _bisexualitea_ mug for herself and handing the generic Grey Sloan Memorial one over. Teddy thanks her, but says nothing else, the nervousness getting the better of her once again. She inhales the steam rising from the cup – Amelia seems to have decided on mint, which arguably does have more of a universal appeal than strawberry cheesecake.

Before the silence stretches too long, Amelia begins to speak.

“The mug is actually a stupid joke between me and Link,” Amelia says. “From way back last year. We’d already decided to have Scout, but the relationship was still pretty new, and we decided we really needed to get to know each other better, so we just spent these entire evenings telling each other stuff. Just – everything, from the fact that we both suck at choosing presents to our respective childhood traumas. And I was kind of nervous about coming out, because that’s one of those things people either get or they don’t, right?”

Teddy really wouldn’t know, but she makes an affirmative sound nonetheless. “So I beat around the bush a bit, but eventually I say, by the way, I’m bisexual, guess that’s a thing you should know. And he goes quiet, and looks me dead in the face, and for a second I’m really scared what he’s going to say, but then he goes: _No kidding, me too._ And we just laugh and kiss it out, but he keeps cracking up and I ask what’s so funny, and he says _well, if we can’t think of any other presents, we can still get each other tacky pride mugs for our anniversary_.” She smiles fondly. “Which we both ended up doing, so, that’s the story there.”

Teddy feels queasy hearing Amelia talk about this so freely, without any shame or guilt or fear. She wishes it were like that for her. Easy, normal. But she swallows the feeling down and asks, “So, what’s on the mug you gave him?”

“Oh, dancing skeletons in pink, purple and blue, because ortho,” Amelia replies. Teddy smiles. “I’m guessing he likes it?” “Yeah, definitely. Ellis might like it even more though; she’s having a spooky things phase right now and she thinks the skeletons are _so_ cool.”

Teddy laughs. “Sounds cute,” she says. “Yeah, she is,” Amelia replies. “They all are. I’m still glad to be back though.”

There’s a moment of silence until Amelia says, “Enough about me, though. Let’s talk about you? If you want?”

Teddy takes a deep breath, staring intently at her mug of tea. “I do, I think, I just – it’s a long story. And it’s complicated, and I’ve just never – I don’t think I’ve ever said any of it out loud.”

“That’s okay. I have time,” Amelia says.

Teddy takes a look out over the water. The sun has come out, and there’s a light breeze ruffling through her hair. A ferryboat has just docked in the harbor, and another one is making its way toward Bainbridge Island in the distance.

“Allison”, she says, and saying her name feels different than it did when she told Owen. Less like shame and guilt and a twenty-year-old secret, and more like – more like Ali herself. More like the person she remembers.

But, just like Owen, Amelia is obviously thinking of Teddy’s daughter, so she clarifies, “Not my daughter Allison, I mean the Allison we named her after.”

She fidgets with her mug, unsure how to continue.

“There’s a version of this story that I tell people. When they ask why I joined the army, I always tell them that my best friend, Allison, died in the second tower on 9/11, and that’s why I enlisted. And then I say, that’s why I have birds on my scrub cap, actually. Allison loved birds.

“Anyway, it’s a good story, right? It’s not even like any of it isn’t true. Allison loved birds, and she died on 9/11, and I enlisted two months later. Except”, Teddy takes a breath, “except she wasn’t just my best friend. I was in love with her, and she was in love with me.”

She lets that hang in the air for a bit. Amelia is clearly wrapping her mind around a few things, and she looks like she’s got more than a few questions. But eventually, she turns to Teddy. “Okay,” she says. “Do you want to tell me about her?”

A few tears form in Teddy’s eyes. It’s the grief coming to the surface, sure, but it’s also that Amelia asked none of the obvious questions, none of the ones that would require Teddy to explain and justify and unravel the mess that it all is.

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She wipes her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, smiling through the tears, and starts at the beginning.

“I met Ali when she ran me over with her bike. This is the point where she’d tell you that I was in the bike lane, and she’d be right about that. In my defense, I was a first year attending, so.” Amelia laughs a little laugh of recognition.

“Anyway, the entire basket on her bike was full of fake birds for some craft project she was doing, and I yelled, _Get those birds out of my way, Pollyanna!_ I’m pretty sure she hated my guts in that moment, but she still bought me a bagel. And we just hit it off.”

It’s strange, to talk about Ali here in Seattle. Those memories have always been separate from this place. But something about it feels right, like she’s letting Ali be here with her, instead of burying her in the ashes of Ground Zero. Amelia asks a question every now and then, but mostly she seems content to listen, and so, Teddy keeps talking, the words spilling out of her more and more with every one she says.

She tells Amelia how thanks to Ali, she’d finally seen some of New York in between shifts.

How Ali had kept a ranking of cafés by the quality of their cheesecake, and the cafeteria at Columbia had always been dead last on the list.

How she and her girlfriend, Claire, had this amazing apartment in Chelsea, and they were looking for a roommate.

How Teddy and Claire had bitched about patients and night shifts, while Ali earned more than either of them working nine to five in an office with a spectacular view of Manhattan, just because she was good at math.

How Teddy had always made Ali that ridiculously good lentil soup when she was sick.

How Ali had held her when her dad died that year.

How Claire had gone home for Christmas and the two of them had been stuck in the city, and how they’d decorated the pussy willow tree in front of their house because Ali insisted that it was her responsibility as a lesbian.

How there had been a blackout one night, and they’d lit all these candles.

How Ali had kissed her that night.

How it had all become complicated so fast.

How her mom had died that spring, and how it had been all she could do to let Ali be there for her, no matter how fucked up everything was.

How they’d tried and failed to stop.

How on the night of September 10th, they’d finally decided to just be together.

How Ali had wanted to take her for fancy breakfast at Windows on the World the next morning, and how Teddy had said no because she had a valve to replace.

She stops talking. It’s not that she doesn’t have the words for what comes next, she knows those all too well. It’s that she can never figure out how to string them together. There’s no narrative to make sense of all the memories that flash before her eyes.

She’s been silent for a few minutes when Amelia says, softly, “And then she died.” Teddy nods, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again.

“The months after are a mess in my head. I can’t figure out what happened when, or why I made any of the decisions I made. I know that we buried her, and I quit my job and enlisted, went through basic training, and got deployed to Afghanistan. And then I met Owen, and after a few months, I started to feel like – like these small pieces of me were coming back. Like the part of me that loves to cut. And now I’m here, and – and I’m just not sure. If I ever got all the pieces back. I just – never stopped to ask myself that, you know?”

Amelia nods. “I get that.”

They quietly look out over the Sound for a minute. All of a sudden, Teddy realizes how close the sun is to sinking past the horizon, and she takes a look at the time on her phone. “Fuck, I’m supposed to get groceries for Owen’s mom and the kids,” she curses, “and I really don’t want to wake them up when they’re asleep already, and…”

“That’s okay,” Amelia says. “Don’t worry. I have a nice, long bath waiting for me at my hotel. Come on, I’ll walk down with you.”

They ride the elevator in silence, both of them lost in thought.

Before they go their separate ways in the parking lot, Amelia stops to say something. “Hey, uh – thank you for sharing all that with me. I know that’s a hard thing to do. And, uh, if you ever want to talk again – I’m here.“

“Thanks,” Teddy says. “I mean that. And – thank you for listening.”

She turns to go, but before she’s even taken three steps, she hears Amelia calling her name.

“Hey, Altman?”

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know that, when you’re ready, there’s a group chat with all the queers in this hospital, and we use it exclusively to make fun of the straight people.”

Teddy has to laugh at that. “I’ll keep that in mind!”, she says. And as she walks toward her car, that gut feeling is tugging at her again, and in the silence, it manifests into a thought. _Ali would’ve found that funny, if she were here._

And for a split second, it feels as if she’s walking right beside her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks are in order to my friend M, who listened to all my yelling about this fic via text, as well as the fine folks over at the Grey's Anatomy Wiki, where I looked up a metric fuckton of details.
> 
> I'm very new to this writing thing, so I'd love some comments or even feedback! You can also come talk to me on tumblr, I'm @fireandsoup :)


End file.
